Ladder
by JrockSpam's Requested Fics
Summary: When 15 year old Meto's mother dies, social services place him with the only living and capable person his mother had listed as a possible guardian- a young long-lost 20-something step relative, Hitsugi. The two bond almost immediately but trouble begins as Meto's brotherly feelings turn to romantic and the two are set whirlwind and emotional trauma.
1. Chapter 1

SUMMARY: When 15 year old Meto's mother dies, social services place him with the only living and capable person his mother had listed as a possible guardian- a young long-lost 20-something step relative, Mitsuo. The two bond almost immediately but trouble begins as Meto's brotherly feelings turn to romantic and the two are set whirlwind and emotional trauma.

'You just don't have one' or 'you don't need one'.

Every kid needs a father though. The first information I found about my father was from a drunk 19 year old.

It was 2002 and I was just 8 years old. At 11pm I had been awoken from my sleep by my tired mother who then carried me out our home and strapped me into the back car seat. My mother's step cousin had phoned pleading for help 5 minutes before. The step cousin and her husband were an unfortunate pair. A few years earlier they had been in a car accident, leaving them both wheel chair bound. The husband could barely move except for his head, while the step cousin had only lost use of her hips down. On this horrid night, they had phoned my mother asking them to collect their 19 year old son. From what I remember, he was drunk and sick, and had been looked after outside a pub by some worried friends until he was collected. I was as quiet as a mouse as this short, stocky lad fell into the front passenger seat, groaning and rolling his head side to side. My young self was rather disturbed. As my mother drove him home, she had ranted at him cruelly, repeating the rhetorical question of 'we're not even really related so why do I help you?' every minute or so. The teenager snapped, and that's how I had found out.

'Don't be a bitch! Jus' coz your kid's dad died recently doesn't mean you have to take it out me! I was nice and sympathetic to you while you were being all miserable and whining away to my mum!'

My father had been dead for 2 weeks. Even now I am unsure of how my mother received this shocking information, but my 8 year old self wanted to cry once my mother explained the full details. I had dreamed of one day finding my father and being a happy family, instead of the troubled family I was apart of. Sadly, death seemed to follow me.

When I was 10, I lost my step-grandfather, and my grandmother followed only 18 months later. My real grandfather had died before I was a week old. I hate to think that before I truly reached teenage years, I already knew loss and it seemed to chase me.

When I thought I was free, my life changed forever.

Just a few weeks after my 15 birthday, I was visited by a police officer at school. I was excused from not only my class but the entire school day. I was ordered into the back seat of the police vehicle. I was terrified and confused, wondering what on earth I had done. When we arrived at the station, I found out I had done nothing of the negative sort. For a moment my body relaxed but quickly tightened as I worried for the true reason I had been brought here.

My mother had been found dead in our home from a drug overdose. She was found by a neighbour, who owned a spare door key for emergencies. The neighbour and my mother had a weekly routine. Twice a week they'd have a morning coffee together and chat, enjoying each other's company. On this day, my mother hadn't answered the door so the neighbour had gone to investigate. She found my mother sprawled out on the sofa, clinging to the string of life. By the time the emergency services had arrived, she was gone.

I still feel guity for not saying good bye to her that day. I had woken up late and gone straight to school, without breakfast. I can't help but think if I had just gone to say goodbye, I could have found her and saved her life.

With no living relatives, and my step aunt and uncle being incapable of my care, I was left to the last person my mother had listed as a guardian if 'a dire situation arose'. My mother's step cousin's son. I spent the first two weeks after my mother's death in foster care with a middle aged American woman named Mandy, waiting for someone to actually find out where this man was. They contacted his wheel chair bound parents, but they didn't know where he was.

"He moved" they said "He said he'd tell us where once he was sure he was staying"

For some reason, the situation hadn't put social services off the idea of leaving me in the care of this man. Sure enough, after 5 days of searching, he turned up in the outskirts of Tokyo. When my family, including step family, were alive they had all been placed in Sendai, so why he was so far away confused me. Once they achieved contact, they called me. They seemed overly glad that he had agreed to take me in. I didn't care. I didn't care what happened to me. The only person I wanted was my mother and she had abandoned me for death.

It took a week before they sent me to live with the stranger. I actually prefered the idea of remaining fostered by Miss Mandy, but I didn't say anything. I just let everything run the way they wanted it. As long as I had a bed to curl up in, to cry in and to sleep in, I didn't care where I was. On a Sunday morning, I was picked up by my social worker, Mikki, who drove me to the Social Service's main office.

"He says you've met before" she said meekly.

I shrugged "Yeah. I guess. Years ago"

Mikki seemed too calm in presence. Everyone else had seemed so uncomfortable near me, as if I was a ticking bomb, minutes away from exploding. I can only assume she had dealt with cases like me many times before. The kind woman thought as she drove, sucking her inner cheek.

"Well he's very nice" she finally said "Odd but nice. Very stable. He's a musician. You like music don't you?"

"Everyone thinks they're a musician if they can play something like three blind mice on a kiddie's keyboard" I muttered.

"I think you'll have a lot in common."

I rolled my eyes. I remembered this person as a drunk, mouthy teenager. I couldn't imagine him being someone 'stable', let alone 'very stable'. A thought crossed my mind.

"What even is this guy's name?" I blurted out, surprising Mikki

"You don't know his name?"

"No" I spat "I've never fucking spoke to him"

I heard Mikki sigh, shaking her head slightly. I hate it when people do things like that. It really winds me up.

"His name is Mitsuo. He's very nice"

"You keep saying he's nice! Have you been on a date with him or something?"

The car journey seemed awfully long, but yet not long enough. I dreaded meeting this person, no matter how nice and stable Mikki believed him to be. I bluntly believed him to be a complete arsehole, even though I had never spoken a word to him.

When the car finally pulled in to the car park, I felt a cold shiver run through my skin. I just wanted to go home. To my home. With my mum.  
Reluctantly, I followed Mikki into the building, my feet dragging on the floor as I went. She led me up two flights of stairs and finally into an elavator. The entire time we were silent. I didn't even speak to ask why she hadn't got in the damn elevator in the first place. We got out at floor 6 and walked up a long corridor. I already knew where we going. I had been brought here by the police on the day of my mother's death. I knew we would turn in to the seventh door on the left and enter a room crammed with blue sofas with a desk in one corner. The last time I had entered, there had been two other teenagers sitting on the sofas, along with three adults. Today, the room had only two people. A woman typed away at her desk, not even looking up from her computer screen when we entered. The other person was a man.

This man didn't seem to notice us either, day dreaming away as he gazed at the blank white wall in front of him. This man was dressed in a leopard print sleeves hoodie with a bright short sleeved shirt underneath. He wore a pair of casual ripped denim jeans stuffed into a pair of black boots. I'd never seen someone with hair like his, at least in person. It was bleached dirty blond with black and brown highlight. One side was rather short, while the other side of hair tickled his shoulders.

"Mr Ikari" Mikki finally said, bring the man out of thought. He looked shocked as he stared wide eyed at us, his heavily pierced mouth gleaming at us.

"This" Mikki brought her hand to my back and gave a firm push forward "Is Meto. But I believe you know that"

I realised was mouth was hanging open like a fish and quickly closed it before the strange man mistook me as dullard.

"Y-yeah" He stuttered standing up, fiddling with his hair "Of course"

He held out his hand to me, seeming to forget we were a good 15 feet away from each other. I swallowed and walked towards him, slowly raising my own hand. Our palms met and he shook them slowly. I saw his adam's apple bounce as he swallowed hard. He seemed nervous. I hadn't expected him to be unsure of me. I had expected to him to be confident and cocky, putting his arm round me in the first few seconds of meeting me and giving me a hard punch in the arm and declaring it was playful. But he didn't. Mitsuo seemed to be even meeker than Mikki.

We were lead in to a small room where Mitsuo had to sign papers. Mikki began to lecture him about caring for me but I soon stopped listening. Instead I stared at my own feet. I felt numb. No longer angry and hurt like I had early. Now I just felt lifeless and nervous. I wonder if Mitsuo felt the same...

After an hour of paper work and warnings, Mikki lead us back to the car park, still rambling about emergency numbers and the difficulty of her job. My ears picked up the odd sentence from her, but most of the time I carried on ignoring her. To me, my thoughts were more important. I wondered about what Mitsuo's home was like and if I would feel comfortable there. I wondered if we really would get on or if I would end up stuck in another foster home. From things Mikki had said, I understood that it was unlikely I would get to live with Miss Mandy again.

I collected my belongs from Mikki's car, Mitsuo kindly helping me. He made small comments like 'Wow! Kid's have lots of stuff' and muttered 'Jesus..' very so often. I'm not sure if it was the amount of suitcases I had or the weight of them that shocked him. Within 10 minutes of filling up Mitsuo's car with my belongs, I had said good bye to Mikki and was strapped in to the front passenger's seat of the large range rover. I waved slowly to Mikki with a small smile, feeling hopeful. Once she was out of sight, my nerves increased and I began to wiggle my toes in my converses. Mitsuo fiddled with the car stereo before putting on a CD. He was so quick, I didn't get to see what was written on it. I felt a little more comfortable in the unfamiliar car when Rob Zombie began to play.

"So" Mitsuo began before clearing his throat "Do you like this music?"

"Yeah. A lot" I muttered, nodding in case he didn't hear.

"Well that's good. I'm not keen on playing pop music. I mean, I like a little bit of pop but I'm very picky." he explained with a small laugh.

"Same" I giggled back.

For a minute, we were silent again. In a way it was comforting that he was just as nervous as me, but it also didn't help. I began to rack my brains for something to say but every idea seemed stupid. Luckily, Mitsuo managed to speak again, saving me the pressure.

"So... What other music do you like?"

I swallowed "D...Do you mean genre or, like, bands and stuff?"

"Either." Mitsuo shrugged "Lets go with both"

I shuffled in my seat as I searched for words "I love death metal and Nu-Metal. But I do like some pop too. I like, erm... Marilyn Manson and Slipknot. Oh, and this band called Skindred I found on line a week ago. I like lots of stuff, really."

Mitsuo smiled, his eyes still on the road as he drove. I've never heard of the latter band, but Manson and slipknot are cool. I've got all their CDs at home" He paused and began to fiddle with the CD player, putting on a song I didn't recognise. "What about X Japan?"

"I've heard a few songs. My mum used to listen to them a lot"

"Ah! I remember us singing in my parent's kitchen when I was young"

A small smile grew up my cheeks "Really? I didn't think you two liked each other?"

"We had our ups and down. The 4 year age difference made us close but, eh! We annoyed each other" Mitsuo spoke fondly, that small smile looking more gentle now.

I frowned "4 years? I didn't think she was that young..."

Mitsuo mumbled and a gave a sharp nod. I wriggled in my seat so I could look at him properly. I curled up on the seat, comfy at last the presence of the man.

"Can you tell me more about my mum?" I asked, feeling a little nervous to ask. I don't know why he would say no, but the fear or him declining my request made me feel a little sick. We were finally bonding, bonding over her memory and I just didn't want it to end yet.

Hitting a spot of traffic, Mitsuo put the break on and took the car out of gear. He leaned back in his seat and flexed his shoulders. His head felt to one side, his eyes falling on me.

"What do you wanna know?" he yawned, covering his mouth one hand and stretching the other's arm out.

"I don't know... Do you remember when she pregnant with me? No one really spoke about it"

Mitsuo gave a little laugh, looking at the road ahead. Not a single car was moving. Some owners had turned their cars completely off.

"I'm not surprised no one speaks about it" he giggled "Ah, god..."

"Why?" I frowned, chewing my tongue

"Well... She was a teenager wasn't she? Her parents wanted her to do well and there she was, only a few months shy of 15 telling every one someone had knocked her up. It didn't look good"

"15?!" I choked "I thought she was older than that when she had me-"

"Nah! She was baby herself"

The cars in front of us began to move a little, earning Mitsuo's reaction to be placing his hand on the break. He mumbled to himself "Do I move now, or... No... ah, um". He finally decided it wasn't worth it.

"I remember" he carried on, still watching the traffic intently "She stayed with us a lot because she kept having arguments with her parents. She scared the living shit out me! As soon as my parents were out the house and it was just me and her, she'd scream at me like I was a monster! She never explained what I had done, but clearly, what ever it was, it had pissed her off no end"

I hummed, turning my own gaze to the paused cars in front of us. The scene was do dull. A dark, cloudy sky and 4 long lines of still cars that made you feel hopeless. I must have looked sad as Mitsuo promptly ask what was wrong.

"Oh" I rolled my shoulders backwards with discomfort "I'm just... shocked" I gave a small giggle, that really wasn't all that cheery "I hadn't realised how little I had known about my own mum"

"Hey!" Mitsuo unexpectedly wriggled his arm round me and pulled me close, giving me a little shake as he did so "It's alright. You'll find you don't know a lot about most people" He gently released me as the vehicles infront finally began to move.

"You could be living with me for the next five years-" he continued "But at the end of it all you might not know about every friend I've had, the terrible things I did at your age or even my secret obsessions" he laughed.

It didn't take long for us to get off the highway. How conversation got deeper and easier as the minutes passed. We spoke more about my mother. Mitsuo told me about how my mother was oddly obsessed with playing monopoly, and would after drag him to play with her. He told me she would we get annoyed with seven year old Mitsuo because he was too young to completely understand the full game. Just thirty minutes later, Mitsuo told me we were almost home. I felt nervous but excited. I felt more hopeful now. I felt that I could be comfortable living with this man. We arrived a rather traditional-Japanese looking home with a set six foot tall electric gates. The building was old, but tidy and refined. There wasn't a garden or a pond like more traditional homes. Just a small amount of lad covered in dark green grass. I gave Mitsuo the calm compliment of 'nice place', while looking around in awe.  
We parked on the stone-covered drive way. The man pressed a large black button, making me jump as I realised the boot door was lifting up. With a smile, he told me to begin unloading my stuff while he opened the front door. With a cheery 'kay!' I jumped at the order, hopping out the car and beginning to grag my items out the back of the car. Once he had unlocked the door, Mitsuo abandoned it open and jogged over to me to help. We discussed my need for so many items, and other weak conversations as we place my luggage on the drive-way.

"Oh, one more thing-" Mitsuo began as he pulled my last suitcase out the back of his car "Call me Hitsugi. Everyone else does"


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I was listening to love songs while writting this. Slow, relaxing love songs. Seems odd.**

**I'd like to apologise for something. I made a small miscalculation with Hitsugi's hair. The hair I was speaking of is from 2006, when this is set in 2008 as Hitsugi is supposed to be 26, not 24. I won't change anything, but as a fan I felt I had to say this! He should have black hair with red high lights. I like to be precise.**

**I hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment!**

While everything had happened, I had forgotten something quite crucial in my life. I also forgot about how my new circumstances would effect it.

What about school?

I'd completely forgotten about it until I found my blazer in one of my suitcases. I sat on the edge of the bed (that I now called mine) and stared at it for a while, thoughts rushing through my head. A day after my mother's death, I had sent a single text to each of my school friends telling them not to worry but to leave me alone. I had had my phone off ever since, not wanting to communicate with anyone but myself. I didn't even like talking to myself half the time. I hadn't been a very positive conservationist.

I was distracted from my thoughts when Hitsugi entered the room, holding some black and silver storage boxes to go under my bed. Mitsuo had asked to be called Hitsugi and the reason why he requested to be called such a ridiculous name was yet to be explained to me. I was going to ask when he had find announced it, but a crash of suitcases interrupted me. I didn't get a chance to ask again.

"Hitsugi-" I began, still clutching my blazer "What about my school? It's all the way in Sendai..."

The man placed the boxes on the bed and sat next to me.

"Well... Sadly there's going to be more changes." He swallowed "In fact it's going to be a little odd, maybe hectic, for a while"

Hitsugi explained that I was going to be home taught for a while. He told me how social services were trying 'a new thing' with helping children with bereavement. They wanted me to be home taught for a while by a one-to-one teacher, in the company of psychiatrist. This would only go on for about 6 weeks, just to check my mental state. After that, I would have to join a new school here in Tokyo. The only good bit was that I got to choose which school I joined, but even that wasn't fantastic.

But Hitsugi wasn't finished explaining the other reasons it would be hetic. My mother's funeral had been delayed while social services had been placing me in a home. Apparently there were other underlining reasons as to why, but Hitsugi was denied the information there. Now that I was placed, Hitsugi and I had to return to Sendai in seven days time for her funeral. I felt my heart drop. I quickly changed the subject, desperate to forget my mother for the time being.

I attempted to change the conversation with the unanswered question from earlier.

"So, why do people call you Hitsugi?" I asked, cocking my head to one side.

"Because it's my stage name" he said flatly, moving the boxes to the floor, opening them all up and placing the lids beneath them.

I raised an eyebrow "Stage name?"

"In my band. It started off as a name for people to call me when I was performing, but almost 9 years later... Yeah, it kind of stuck. "

I quickly became intrigued. I hadn't completely believed Mikki when she said he was a musician.

"You're a musician? What do you play? Or do you sing? Oh, what genre? What-"

"Jesus!" Hitsugi covered his ears, smiling bashfully " how am I supposed to answer all these questions at once?" I pulled his hair out his eyes before answering "I'm a guitarist"

"That is so cool!" I practically jumped off the bed "Where have you played?"

"All over the country. And at a lot of Anime conventions" Hitsugi shuffled, still smiling.

"Have-"

Hitsugi quickly covered my mouth "You shouldn't ask so many questions. You'll get yourself in trouble one day" he allowed his hand to drop from my mouth and moved it to tap my knee "Come on. Lets get you settled. I'll get some coat hangers"

Hitsugi rushed out the room with a spring in his step, leaving me to carry on unpacking my shirts. I thought fondly as I neatly folded them and placed them in a drawer. I felt relieved that he seemed happy with my presence. He genuinly seemed glad to have me. Not even my own mother had ever seemed that joyed to be in my company. I'm not saying she didn't love me, I just believe she saw me as a massive inconvenience in her life. Hitsugi returned moments later with about six coat hangers in each hand. Like the boxes, he placed them on the bed. He offered to help and I quick accepted. As we tidily placed my shirts and tops in to the top drawer, Hitsugi started the conversation again.

"What do you eat?"

"Food!" I snickered "I dunno... Most things. I'm funny about seafood. Fish is fine, but things like crab and lobster are just... No! I can't eat those things with out feeling sick"

Hitsugi laughed from the back of his throat "Shame. I do like crab noodles! No bother. Sushi, chips, chicken, all that stuff good?"

I gave a sharp nod and mumbled a sound of approval. I swirled round to grab a band shirt out my close-to-empty suitcase.

"So chips, chicken and sushi is good for dinner?"

"Chicken and sushi?!" I sounded appalled. I'd never heard of someone serving such an odd meal. "Who the hell creates a meal like that? They don't even go! It's not like... Like... I dunno. Sausage and bacon!"

Hitsugi raised an eyebrow.

"Well... We can always order out. It's just because the chicken and sushi goes out of date soon. Don't really mind... Waste not want not, y'know?"

As much as my own eyebrows had raised at the strange concoction, I didn't argue. I did like it all, so why should I complain really? Not to mention it would of been quite rude. Though my outburst about complimenting meat wasn't very polite...

After a while I was left alone to finish unpacking my last suitcase while Hitsugi sorted out dinner. He told me to come straight down stairs once I was done and head to the dining room. He directed me that it was between the living room and the kitchen. I had nodded, but as I hadn't really looked round the house yet, I didn't even know where the living room was! I went on my little hunt around the down stairs without a worry. It was a little strange in Hitsugi's home. While the outside was very tradition, the inside was western. He had black doors and metallic red walls in the hallway, which was a style very different from what I was used to. Most homes I had been in simply had white walls and traditional light brown Japanese sliding doors. When I found the living room, I was amused to see it had a carpet. When I lived with mum, we just had floorboards in every room, with a odd rug here and there. Hitsugi's home seemed cosey though. I followed his directions and saw another door on the right side of the room. I strolled over and entered the dining room. Hitsugi was sitting at one end, scribbling away on sheets of paper, a pair of thick frames perched on the bridge of his nose. With out looking up, he spoke.

"So tell me more about yourself. I feel I have spoken too much and you too little"

I swallowed "What would you like to know?"

"Everything. Likes and hates and tastes"

I paused, chewing my lip in deep thought. I didn't know what to tell him. 'Everything' was quite a lot to say. Where should I start? I cut out music as that conversation had happened in the car. Hitsugi had stopped what he was doing now and I was staring at me in a rather uncomfortable manner. I wasn't sure if he truly was looking at me or if he was looking through me. I couldn't keep him waiting and I had to think of something quick before I gnawed straight through my bottom lip. I sat down at the opposite end of the table and began.

"I don't have a favourite film." I blurted out after a long pause "People always ask that and I never know what to say. There is so many films to like so its cruel to have to narrow it down to one favourite... I can say my favourite horror is The Ring! It's so weird"

Hitsugi cocked a smile "Interesting. Tell me more"

And with only one breath, I told my new guardian every random fact about myself that came to my head "I prefer dogs to cats. I had a plush toy duck when I was little called Bill. I think dolls are fucking scary but I like them. Sometimes I talk with a lisp and I don't know why. I still watch Pokemon. I prefer chicken skewers than a piece of chicken shoved on a plate. I don't like girls who are taller than me. I hate the colour yellow. I love the rest of the rainbow. I forgot how to do cartwheels last year-"

"Dude!" Hitsugi began to laugh at me "Not so fast!"

"- Half the time I don't think comedy films are funny. I think I'm weird. I bite my nails. I love to talk but I also hate it. I broke both my legs 3 years ago and they still hurt now. I love carrots. I hate corn on the cob. Wrestlers scare me. I used to play drums but my mum threw them away. I didn't cry when my mum died and I still haven't."

I stopped, shutting my mouth tiredly. I felt sick as I saw a look of pure pity splatter across Hitsugi's face. I don't want pity. I don't to be seen as a victim of my mother's death. I couldn't stand his sad eyes.

"Some people just can't cry" he whispered, so quiet I couldn't have easily mistaken it was a gust of wind.

He smirked "Bill The Duck, eh?"

"Tell me about you now" I ordered

Hitsugi shrugged his shoulders and repeated that he had spoken more than we today. I insisted on facts.

"Fact: I want to know if you want to watch a movie with dinner"

"That's not a fact" I scowled

"Technically it is. Film or no film? living room or dining room?"

I shrugged. "Movies good. But maybe it isn't. Sometimes when I watch a movie while I eat, food falls off my fork and I don't even realise."

Hitsugi smirked again and hummed. "Dining room today."

His head fell back to the paper and he returned to scribbling on it vigorously.

He scowled, folding my arms and tapping my foot in hopes of gaining his attention.

"Wheres my fact then, eh?"

Hitsugi looked back up, a small smile on my lips.

"Fact. I never had a toy duck named Bill" he sniggered.

I sat up straight, annoyed now at Hitsugi's inability to give a proper conversation.

"I want a real fact! Something interesting, not stupid!"

"It's a fact"

"It's a stupid fact!"

Hitsugi sighed. He sat back in his seat, fiddling with his pen with both hands. He sucked on his lip ring thoughtfully before finalling speaking.

"I have a peculiar obsession with cats" he said slowly, eyes on the ceiling.


	3. Chapter 3

_**New chapter! And it's about to get heavy!**_

The next few days went quickly. I found Hitsugi quite easy to get a long with, though he's definitely odd with conversation. Hitsugi likes meaningless chatter and does do deep in to himself. The subject of cats is popular for him.

"I really like 'em. They're bad=ass.

But our conversations weren't always possible. Before he made dinner on my first staying, as he sat at dining table with his papers, he removed his heavy frames, sat back and looked at me in a seriously manner.

"Miserable topic" Hitsugi heaved a heavy sigh "The funeral is in a few days"

I swallowed, my muscles tightened. Nothing was said for a few seconds. I gazed at him with the strongest expression I could, watching his piercings pop in their holes as his tongue ran over them.

"It'll be a long drive... But I think we'll manage. We'll get Macdonalds on the way. Pizza on the way back if you're up for it. Junk food heals the soul" he smiled softly, cocking his head to one side "You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine... Not a nice thing. Funerals. But it's cool. Finally goodbyes are needed"

"Yes... Bad for the soul though. Maybe we'll get pizza too"

He knows lot about me now, but I don't know a lot about him. He told me about his band, funny things that had happened and how different his band mates are. I really want to meet the singer. He seems so comical that a meeting should not go amiss.

Hitsugi said I could get a drum kit again. He says he actually has one stored away somewhere at his parents house, but he wasn't sure of it's condition. The thought is nice though.

The funeral rolled around quickly. We both quiet that morning, just getting up, washed and dress with barely a word. By half 10, we were in the car on our way. Hitsugi put on the stereo for while to cure the silence. Once we were on the highway, he turned it down and brought up food.

"Macdonalds will be on the left in a few mins. Breakfast time, me thinks"

I agreed. My empty stomach burned with acid. As we waited for Macdonalds to come into view, we mindless chattered about it.

"I don't like their milkshakes" Hitsugi sniggered "Everyone likes them but it tastes like vomit to me"

"I don't like their fish burgers... Because I don't like much fish"

I ate my food as slow as I could. I didn't want to be late for my mother's funeral but the horrendous feeling of a final good bye, and feeling of knowing I would be in the room with his lifeless corpse made me sick. I couldn't do it. I want to break down although I wasn't even there yet.

Hitsugi must have felt the tension as, during what had been a long silence, he kindly said,

"It's never as bad as you imagine.

Not to say it won't be unpleasant. But it won't be as bad as you imagine"

Arriving was awful too. I felt sick, staring at the building where it would be held. Hitsugi put an arm round my shoulders as he walked me through the car park. It weird seeing so many people I didn't recognize. I don't know where she met these people. I looked round for the car of the neighbour who had found my mother, but none of the vehicles seemed familiar. A couple in wheelchairs, not elderly but clearly passed the stage in life known as 'middle age', sat at the bottom of the entrance ramp. Obnoxiously, they were almost blocking the entrance entirely. People were cautiously side stepping through the gap, too polite to demand them to move. They weren't conversing with anyone who spoke to them, nor each other and we're just staring off into space.

Hitsugi swore under his breath.

"Mum! Dad!"

The couple's heads slowly turned

"Back up!"

The couple looked at each other with confused faces. Hitsugi groaned before running ahead to drag their wheelchairs back a few feet to unblock the ramp.

"Mum!" Hitsugi said in a clear and loud voice "You were blocking the entrance"

"Oh... I was wondering by people kept apologizing to us... I thought they thought we were Kimi's parents" we gave dull laugh

Hitsugi moved to stand down between.

"Mum, dad, this is Meto-

"whats his name?" Hitsugi's father squinted at me.

"MEE-TO! He's Kimi's son"

A smiled spread across Mitsuo's mother's face.

"Oh I haven't seen you since you were a baby! Such a sweet little boy... I used to baby sit when your mum went to school!"

"Oh... Thank you... For... Looking after me, ma'am"

"Call me Tsu, as you seem to have forgotten my name"

"Yes... Sorry. Tsu"

"My dad is David, by the way" Hitsugi explained.

"I'm David" His father smiled, clearly not hearing his son "My father was an American. Never knew the man, but clearly my mother was infatuated by him as she named me after him. Personally, I believe she hadn't known him long enough to know his name and simple picked the only male western name she knew and declared it to have been his!" He laughed

I tried to laugh too, feeling awful uncomfortable. There was something wrong with pair. A hearing disability was now obvious but something else didn't seem right... It was in their stares.

"Where's Mrs Takanawa?" Hitsugi questioned in a serious tone

"She's inside somewhere... I don't think she's coming back"

The guitarist swore under his breath before asking for my assistance in bringing them inside. Though his mother was a small and skinny woman, I had imagined pushing her up the ramp to be a heavy job due to the wheelchair. Actually, it was fine. Tsu hummed to herself as I pushed her into the building. I found helping her a small distraction for everything. Hitsugi instructed me to walk through the corridor and too the door at the end. A golden sign was above the door that read 'Service Hall'. I gulped but did I was ordered. Hitsugi then instructed me to hold the door open while he pushed is parents in. I wish he hadn't. I didn't want to be the first person to step in room. But I did it. I placed all my focus of David and Tsu. 'It's just a room' I told myself 'an ordinary room'. I dared myself to look. There was over 50 seats in lines, but only 8 were taken. One at a time, Hitsugi wheeled them through the doors and to end of the second line of seats. I found myself frozen to the door, unable to follow. Hitsugi saw, and strolled back over to me"

"Be sweet" he said.

I blinked "huh?"

"To my parents. They're quite deaf and both a partially blind, my father more so. They don't get out much either so they really like to talk. Maybe having a chat will help you relax anyway..." I gave a little half smile " They're not... completely there anymore. They're been in a few accidents, you see... Stressful life."

I nod, but couldn't hold my tongue "Then... Why don't you see them much?"

Hitsugi sucked his lip ring "I find I cause my problems. Sometimes they don't even remember me... Sometimes one of them think I'm kid still. Then they'll argue about how old I am... It doesn't happen often..." A small smiled crept up his cheeks "For such a sad day, it's a good day for them. They're aware."

I simple smile back and nod. I found myself feeling slightly happy that he was opening up to me.

Hitsugi opened his mouth to speak again, because someone else caught his attention. Running towards the door was a chubby, young woman in a too-tight black dress.

"Mitsuo..." she puffed as she got to us "I've lost them!, I-"

"I brought them in" Hitsugi frowned at her.

She stuttered uncomfortable.

I always found sights like this a little amusing. A small man talking down to a woman who stood inches above him. Hitsugi firmly, but calmly told the young woman off for not sticking to her 'priorities'.

"I needed the bathroom! I'm very sorry, I-"

"I asked you to please wait outside until I arrived. You also left them blocking the ramp so people couldn't get in the building. Please, Ms Takanawa, look after my parents"

"I do, I-"

"Your nice but I need to know they're safe"

"Yes Mitsuo, sir. I'll be better"

Ms Takanawa quickly ran back to the couple, apologizing to them to. Hitsugi sighed.

"Are you going to say anything?"

"About what?"

"About your mum. During the service"

I swallowed. I became aware of the tightness of my grip on the door and forced myself to let it go, allowing it to slowly swing shut.

"I haven't prepared as speech..."

"You don't need one. I think you should... It's the kind of thing you may regret" Hitsugi placed a calm hand on my shoulder. "May do you some good"

"Fastfood does you good, talking to people does you good, funeral speeches do you good, what doesn't do you good in your books?" I laughed sarcastically.

"Regret and salad" he smirked back "Come on. Take a seat with me"

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_**Don't forget to check out my other fics!**_


	4. Chapter 4

I tried to to be cool. I tried to be calm. I tried to pretend I was somewhere else. Even so, I could feel myself breaking rapidly I took deep, long breath as I watched more and more people enter the hall, the clocking ticking closer and closer to the beginning of the service. David rabbited on about random topics while his wife hummed as she reminiscence. Hitsugi was mostly silent. He giggled a few times when people entered, what he found comical, I wasn't always sure, but other wise he was thoughtful.

Eventually, the minister stepped in and made his way to the podium, switching on the mic.

"Are all attendees seated? Are we waiting for anyone"

The room was filled with muttering.

"Then we will begin. Today... We are here to say our final goodbyes to Kimico Matsu. I think we can all agree that it is wonderful to see so many people here to show their love her on this day"

The attendees muttered in agreement. I was silent.

"I will now read a passage from the bible. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord"

I bible passage at my mother's funeral... She wasn't religious at all. She thought it was all rubbish and just something for lost people to believe in. I knew she would have never approved of this. I wanted to say something, tell the minister to be quiet, but I kept my mouth shut. It wouldn't do any favors.

There was a moment of silence once the minister had finished, which was interrupted by a cough from someone at the back of the hall.

"Would anyone like to take the stage to say a few words about the deceased?"

I felt Hitsugi's hand on my thigh. I looked at him with nervous expression, and he replied with a comforting smile.

"Go on" he whispered.

I bit my lip, but before I could stand, someone spoke.

"I would, if I may"

I turned round to see a man dressed in tailored black suit with a black shirt standing a few rows back from me. I didn't recognize him. He seemed so confident and proud, his head held high as he waited for permission. He seemed so refined. He wasn't just a man, he was a gentleman, and a successful-looking one at that. The gentleman looked like he had been heavily scrubbed head to foot. Nothing about him was out of place, even his hair was perfect.

The gentleman slowly walked up to the podium, eyes on the floor. Once there, he brought a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and cleared his throat, before taking a deep breath.

Who was he? I had never seen him before but yet he had known well enough to come to her funeral with a prepared speech.

"I knew Kimico for many years" he began in a solemn voice " though I saw little of her. She was a dear friend, though she meant more than that to me. I deeply regret not being there for her in her hours of need-"

"Who's that?" Hitsugi's whispered wormed into my ear.

"Don't know..." I whispered back.

"-Kimico was a beautiful, intelligent woman. The world has lost someone very special. I pray she rests in peace and her memory lives on with us all"

The strange gentleman nodded at the crowd before thanking them in a respectful manner and stepping down. I watched him walk through the crowd. His head turned as he passed. He looked at me. It wasn't a moment, it was seconds. I prolonged gaze.

I didn't know him, but clearly he knew me...

"Would anyone else like to say a few words about the deceased?"

I felt Hitsugi's gaze on me. I swallowed and stood up without a word. My stomach turned as I felt all eyes on me. The minister simply nodded, holding out a hand to the podium as I awkwardly made my way past Tsu and David. My lungs felt tight and my head heavy as I got closer. I took the speaking place and looked out into the hall. I felt like hobbit among giants as the gazes remain glued on me. Just like the gentleman, I clear my throat a I prepared to speak.

"I... I haven't prepared a speech" I stuttered "But... Here goes. Kim was my mother and I would never ask for another. She wasn't the best mum. I think she's was too young to look after me in my early years. I believe she tried her hardest. Just... maybe her youth got in the way. She could never afford me the newest clothes, but there was always food in the fridge. Our house was small with little in it, but she made it a home. She couldn't always be around to love me, but I always felt she did."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, my heart breaking as I spoke. Although I tried to hide it, my voice made it obviously to all that I was breaking down.

"She did some stupid things. After I was 7, I don't have a memory of her without some alcohol in her hand. She did worse... But I think it was her way to cope. For me. Or... maybe with me."

I couldn't stop it anymore. The tears were falling. I scrunched up my eyes and carried on.

"I wish I had been a better son. I wish I hadn't cried so much when I was small and I wish I had tried harder to get along with others. Then maybe she wouldn't had worried about me so much. Maybe she would have been able to handle me... Maybe I'm the reason she drank... Or maybe it was because she was on her own. She was my age when she had me. 15. I can't even look after myself so... I don't blame her for falling. I love my mother... I wish she was here so I could tell her. Just once more. And maybe an apology for not saying good morning and goodbye to her the morning she died"

I opened my eyes and looked up. My eyes fell on Hitsugi. His jaw slightly open, his sad eyes sparkling with liquid. A small smile appeared as he met my gaze. I closed my eyes and looked down.

"I love you mum. I want you to come back... I want my mum"

I cracked.

I let it out.

I cried.

With in seconds of my finished speech, someone was by my side, their hand on my shoulder, the other on my arm. Hitsugi softly hushed me and led me back to our seats.

"Beautiful words of love" I heard the minister stay once he was back at the mic, receiving mumbled of agreement from the attendees.

I sat down slowly, my body feeling heavy. I thought I'd be embarrassed to cry in front of so many people. But I wasn't. I didn't care. All I cared about was that my mother was here.

Tsu muttered something to me but my brain couldn't register it.

I could hear nothing. All I could do was feel. All I felt was my own sadness.

As I began to calm, returning to reality, I found the minister was still rambling religious nonsense. I tried not to think of my mother, as difficult as it was due to it being her funeral. Eventually my mind settled on a subject linked to my mother, but not simply about her.

Who was this man that claimed to have known my mother so well?

_**What did you think guys?!**_


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